


before you came (jumin han mini fic)

by jisokai



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 13:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15819708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jisokai/pseuds/jisokai
Summary: his life used to beso boring and plain.but that was allbefore you came.





	before you came (jumin han mini fic)

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! this was an ask on tumblr that i was just going to make a blurb and then after 6 paragraphs i realized i would need to elongate it,,, you can check out some of my other works there!! the username is the same <3

Had everything really been this dry?

For some reason, Jumin woke up in dread. He routinely sat up and walked to the bathroom to do his morning procedures. His hand seemed to move slow as he brushed his teeth and hair, but shook it off and splashed cold water on his face in attempt to wake himself up.

Something wasn’t right.

He tried to think of what was wrong, but couldn’t come up with anything. His businesses were doing well, his father wasn’t fawning after any women, and Elizabeth the Third was healthy as ever, so what could it be?

He brushed it off while getting dressed and tried to push it out of his mind as he sat down for breakfast, thanking the chef for his meal. The cook nodded and left, leaving Jumin to eat alone.

Yet it only made him more unsettled.

He couldn’t help but feel as if the room was empty. A vacant chair sat across from him at the table and it bothered him to no end. Something felt odd that the chef made his breakfast and not someone else. But who else would?

He shook his head to erase the thoughts, wondering if he had some weird dream that he forgot about. Ultimately, he decided to push it to the back of his mind and instead focus on work. Just as any ordinary day should be.

Ignoring his thoughts quickly became a challenge once he realized how much it applied to  _ everything _ . The office was so dull, not a single person was smiling as he walked across the lobby. The elevator was even worse, he had to stand between people who seemed to be made of beige. From their expression to their shoes, everything was so flat and lifeless.

His walk to the office was a little better, Jaehee came to greet him and drop off a couple reports. At least she managed to furrow her eyebrows and offer a look that wasn’t so monotone. Jumin simply took them with a ‘thank you’ and made his way to his office, sitting in his chair and sighing. He tilted backwards and pushed his foot off the ground so he could whirl the seat.

He thought it would help him become more energetic, but it only gave him a headache, making him rest his head down for a moment so the room would stop shaking.

He got to work quickly, typing through documents quickly and signing off on reports, but it still seemed so slow. No matter how hard he pushed his fingers to jam on the keyboard, it felt as though he was trying to move his fingers through a bucket of molasses.

Eventually, he huffed and leaned back again, deciding to take a rest. He turned from the computer screen to glance at the clock, but froze.

Usually it was a nice, deep blue. A calm color to stabilize him every time he rushed himself to get work done.

It was still blue, but the color seemed off. It wasn’t a rich cobalt like the three hundred times he looked at it before. No, it was dull. A sad blue grey.

There were many things that felt off, but that was the first thing that physically took him aback. He blinked rapidly, but the color was the same every time he reopened his eyes. He shook his head in response, wondering if he was looking at the computer for too long. However, only thirty minutes had passed.

As a way to resettle himself, he went on his phone and pulled up the RFA chat room, hoping Seven’s jokes or even Zen’s selfie could lighten his mood.

But nobody had logged in all day. He refreshed the app three times, but each one looked the same as the previous. Having enough, he stood to walk around and stretch himself.

But as he stood to leave, he felt dizzy and confused. Something was just so  _ wrong  _ about his life right now and he couldn’t pinpoint the issue. He had been in the office for so little, but it felt like hours had passed. As he walked to the door, he saw the framed pictures on the wall looking as grey-toned as the clock.

 

He returned a few minutes later after taking a water break, but it only made him feel worse. Everything seemed filtered, as if the saturation of the world had been lowered. He blamed it on everything he could: lack of sleep, dry eyes, maybe the weather was bad (ignoring the fact that he went to bed at ten, splashed water in his face a minute ago, and it was sunny out)? Sure, he decided those three were an appropriate combination.

And that’s what he kept telling himself for the remaining five hours he had in the office.

 

His evening felt the same as the morning, weird that the chef made his food and the chair across from him was empty.

His safe haven was seeing Elizabeth and holding her for comfort because today was just oddly sad. Except when she meowed and looked at him, her eyes were dull and her voice monotone. It was then that he decided to call it a night.

Except the next morning was no better, if anything it was worse. The grey was more prominent and dark, making his heart thump anxiously. The day was spent no different than the previous and it felt terrible.

His hope was gone by the end of the week, when he woke up to a world of complete black and white.

He could question and demand answers, but from whom would he get them? He held Elizabeth in his arms that morning, wondering why it come to this. His mind was so tangled he couldn’t think, and the lack of color wasn’t helpful. He bit his lip as water pooled under his eyes, squeezing them tight in hopes it would get better. His life was so empty, vacant of color and the dullness was terrifying. What had brought him color before? Where was it now? He let out a sob and held his dear cat closer, hoping that he could get his answer.

  
  
  
  


He jolted upwards in his bed, breathing rapidly from his dream. He had to blink his eyes repeatedly to confirm he was awake, shaking his head of any lingering images. He turned to see you sleeping peacefully next to where he laid a second earlier. Suddenly, the black and white he feared was gone, instead replaced with vivid hues of soft orange brushing your face from the rising sun. He smiled down at you calmly, reaching out a hand to graze his fingers across your skin. After confirming you actually existed, he let out a sigh of relief, almost coming to tears.

_ You’re real. You’re the one he was missing. That’s why he couldn’t find the colors in his life. _

That constant emptiness is what you manage to fulfill. The cook doesn’t have to come by because you make him breakfast every morning. That chair across from him felt so empty because that’s your special seat. His movements were so slow because it’s  _ you  _ who motivates him work with passion.

He laid himself back down, facing your sleeping form and twirling a strand of hair around his finger. Tears formed by his eyes again and he didn’t bother trying to contain them, there was no reason to.

It’s a mystery how he managed to survive before you came.

 

 


End file.
